


When the Stars Align

by RedSnowWhite



Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Barbed cock, Brief Encounter With a Slime Demon, Cock Cages, Come Inflation, Corruption, Demons, Demons Will Be Demons, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of CBT, Mind connection, Nipple Torture, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Painful Sex, Penis Size, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sounding, The Victim Enjoys It, Tongue Size, belly bulge, mentions of mpreg, that's now a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnowWhite/pseuds/RedSnowWhite
Summary: Once every hundred years, the stars align, and a portal opens to another world. That day is dreaded, but it is also celebrated.It all depends on which side of the Gate you're on.---In other words, Tarr is a demon, and he's going to feast on human bodies and emotions for a night, then return to his home world sated. Selvan is a knight who's mission is to defend his fellow humans from the depravity that the demonic invasion brings. Things don't go as planned - for either of them.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955464
Comments: 11
Kudos: 244
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	When the Stars Align

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The Stars
> 
> I should probably warn you that the POV does a few strange things in this. It is deliberate and serves a purpose, but if I failed and in some part it isn't clear what's going on, I'll be greatful if you point it out in a comment.

Tarr isn’t the oldest. Still, this will be his tenth Alignment — an anniversary of sorts. Not a first by any means, yet he paces back and forth in front of the Gate, shoving others out of his way, filled to bursting with nervous energy and seed ready to be sown. He has waited a century already; these last few hours shouldn’t be so hard!

He’s not an exception. Everywhere around him, thousands of his brethren wait for their feast to begin, all kinds and shapes. Bulky and thin. Ridiculously huge and smaller than a human toddler. With dry bark-like skin or covered in slime. Some smooth, some furry. Humanoid-shaped or completely alien-looking, with appendages abundant. Growling and screeching and hissing and snarling, pressing on each other, all of them _so hungry_.

Tarr clenches his fist and cuffs an upstart youngling in its reptilian head; it scurries away with a yowl. The first line before the Gate isn’t for younglings! Tarr is not the oldest, but he’s up there with the fastest and the strongest of their kind, all claws and teeth, obsidian skin, and sinewy muscles. He will be one of the first through the portal when the worlds align, and it finally opens. Then he’ll feast. 

Only moments now.

His body vibrates, its dark outline blurring. He can’t wait, can’t wait, balls so full, so heavy with his home world’s essence accumulated over this century that is about to pass. He needs to free it, anchor it in sentient beings who are truly living, so he can drink them through it for the empty decades that will come after today. The seed he planted last time dissipated years ago; he must do better this time; he must be smarter. He will find fewer of them, with young, sturdy bodies, and pump them full of himself. Reshape them, make them last. This time he won’t gorge himself randomly on fear and shame and unwanted pleasure. He will feast, yes, and he will take, but he will be smart about it, prioritizing the future over the frenzy of tonight.

Besides, humans are the tastiest when they’re thoroughly broken.

At the memories, his cock swells and peaks out of its sheath. The barbs behind the gleaming tip uncoil and flex.

Soon.

He’s going to pick the bigger ones, the ones that will carry his essence for the rest of their lives without distributing it between their offspring. That’s the mistake demons make on their first prowl, picking the soft ones just because they run slower and there are more holes to fill. And months later, when those they picked and changed and woken up inevitably breed, the seed gets split, then split, and split again, until too little is left to hold the connection. It’s better to choose the males. They break just as prettily, and no matter how much and how often they’ll indulge the desires awoken today, they won’t be able to get rid of the dark fragments of another reality that Tarr and his kind will ejaculate into their bellies.

And it’s happening! The air cracks with low thunder, making Tarr’s slick skin prickle. The darkness of the Gate rips down the middle; it opens its maw, ready to swallow them and munch on their bodies with jagged teeth of energy. The trip will hurt, but it is so worth the pain.

The Elders go first — that’s their prerogative. Just as well. They’ll engage the defense forces and draw their attention away — there are always defense forces, as humans aren’t fond of giving in. Fun, that.

Tarr is in the next wave. He sheathes his sensitive cock back into himself, even if that’s no use when he’s about to be vivisected by the Universe. He runs into the bright hole, and it doesn’t disappoint. The agony like no other drives through him in bursts, but his essence holds. The portal spits him out in front of a long line of armored humans. Some of his kin are already tearing at it, denting the line in places, the song of metal meeting claws and unbreakable skin, of desperate screams of men and shrieks of their dying horses so beautiful it boils his blood. He’s physically vibrating with a heady mixture of pain and need, but he’s not here to fight.

Instead, he crouches in the tall grass. His coloring will help him hide as long as no light reflects off his skin. He observes.

Humans, the fools, sent the strongest of them. The ripest. The tastiest. How amusing. To stop the flood of darkness from reaching the richest feasting grounds, they brought the most delicious morsels to Tarr and his. Humans and their useless resistance. There’s no stopping this flood, as there was no stopping the previous ones. They are going to feast, and it would’ve been so much easier if the humans accepted this and presented their holes to be used and filled, instead of fighting the inevitable. 

Not so fun, though.

Tarr watches the one-sided battle unfold. The left flank has already fallen, and the air grows heavy with the screech of rent metal and pained screams interspersed with desperate moans. His cock swells again, and he scans the crowd for something to bury it in.

And there he is, magnificent in the shining silver, lit by the full moon like a beacon calling to Tarr’s groin. On the hill, he brandishes a long sword at the swarming horde, the defensive position giving him an advantage his fallen comrades lacked. He’s so beautiful in his anger, in his terror, in the furtive, wide-eyed glances he keeps throwing at the forcibly bared rears crammed full of demon cock. Tarr licks his lips, mouth suddenly full of spit, and wonders if, between one slash of the sword and the next, the man imagines himself being filled so. 

He’s going to realize that fantasy to the best of his ability, Tarr decides when the white cape gets torn off, and the man staggers before an Elder but squares his shoulders, going for the demon’s nonexistent heart instead of giving up. Tarr will spread those muscular thighs and enjoy the clenching hole between them, rape it open to the song of agonized screams; he’ll build that music in layers, stuff it full of other tones, unwanted tones, deep and shameful. Such spirit. He’ll enjoy breaking it so much.

He only needs to beat the Elder to it.

Easy, that. He isn’t the oldest, but he’s as fast as the lightning that holds the Gate open, and just as dangerous. He zips through the grass, between the dead animals, between the twisting bodies of men and his indulging brothers. That’s his prize the Elder’s tentacle is reaching for, his! 

He zeros in on them, throws an arm around the man’s waist, slim even when covered in armor, and thugs the silver morsel right from under the Elder’s unshapely nose. The man yells and tries to struggle, and Tarr laughs. The sword is useless against him — his skin resembles obsidian not only in color. The human quickly realizes this but doesn’t give up. 

What a catch, what a gift the Universe bestowed upon him; Tarr can’t wait to unwrap it from its metal packaging.

The battleground is far behind them, its noises faint in the background, when he throws the human to the ground. The man scrambles back as fast as he’s able until his back hits a tree. They’re in a forest, which should give them some semblance of privacy. Tarr doesn’t want interruptions.

“No no no no no,” the human keeps chanting, but Tarr isn’t in the mood to listen. The man’s fear lingers in the air, rich and sweet. He’s young, with skin bronzed by the sun and long hair the color of wheat on harvest time. It’s tangled now and moist with sweat but no less beautiful for it; Tarr closes in and runs his fingers through the strands. 

The human stares up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “I’m pure, you can’t have me. I’m pure. The Order teaches you can’t have me if I’m pure!” It’s clear the man wants to yell, but his voice breaks and refuses him with a tremble.

Tarr knows of the Order. His smile makes the human’s breath catch. “What’s your name, youngling?” he purrs in a rumbling baritone.

The man’s nostrils flare, and he swallows a whimper. “Selvan,” he says firmly, despite shaking when the demon strokes a finger over his chapped bottom lip. Losing his sword and the demon’s close presence has tempered but not vanquished the human’s courage. Perfect. Tarr so hates it when they stop responding.

“I am Tarr, and I am going to be the first to enjoy your body, before even you.” He presses a finger into the man’s mouth when it opens for him in shocked denial. He rubs the slippery tongue. His balls throb. 

The Order was there for the last three Alignments, and his knowledge about it comes from back then, from the minds of its past members in whom he planted his seed. Silly humans, refusing to partake voluntarily in life’s pleasures, in a futile hope that it will protect them somehow from the pleasure forced on them by his kind. Should’ve gotten a clue when it didn’t work the first three times.

Silly, yes. And so delicious, when they are allowed to ripen untouched.

“Tell me, Selvan.” Tarr runs his finger back and forth over the pliant muscle. “Did they cage you?”

The human’s eyes overflow with tears of impotent anger; he bites. Tarr laughs and shoves his finger deeper. The cool air caresses the tip of his cock. Maybe later he will let those little pearls pretending to be teeth stimulate him in other places. The human will do whatever Tarr wants him to, eventually; they always do.

“Oh, they did,” he coos. “My poor, brave virgin. Not only unable to sate his unholy desires, but to even harden for them. Tell me, how old were you when they put it on?” Tarr pumps his finger in deep before removing it so Selvan can answer.

The man swallows then hisses through gritted teeth, “fifteen.”

Tarr grins. “So old enough to know what you’re missing. And have you ever known the pleasure of another’s cock?”

Selvan glares at him.

“Oh, dear lad,” the demon purrs at him as he strokes the golden hair. “You’re so lucky I’ve found you. We’re going to have so much fun together. Before long, you’ll beg me to help you break your vows.”

“Never!“

What a lovely spark. Tarr can’t wait to douse it with his cum.

“Never is such an unreasonably long time, take it from someone who knows. Your deprived cock deserves better than that. I propose a compromise. I’ll take mine from you trice, and then we’ll renegotiate?”

“W-what?”

Tarr smiles. 

The armor clangs as the human tries to crawl away, but there’s no more space between him and the old oak, and in front of him is the hulking form of the demon.

“Don’t play coy, you know what I mean. You’ve seen on that battlefield what I mean.” 

The red blooming on Selvan’s cheeks is so pretty in the moonlight. For a moment, Tarr pities the humans’ inability to see color in poor lighting, but the moment passes, and glee replaces the pity. What he must look like to Selvan, the darker blight on a black backdrop, moonlight reflecting off his skin here and there, a frightening shadow between his legs that Selvan will soon become very intimately familiar with.

Tarr’s cock is half unsheathed now, and the urgency staved off by the delightful surprise of Selvan’s complete sexual innocence is back and squirming in Tarr’s gut. He needs to sate it first so he can revel properly in taking this lovely human and his silly inhibitions apart.

Selvan fights him, but it’s easy to roll him over onto his belly. Tarr sits on the kicking legs and presses the armor-clad torso to the ground. He jams his fingers under the backplate and is happy to discover the design didn’t change much since he last encountered it. He concentrates the darkness at the tips of his claws, then drags them over the leather joints. The culet falls off, and there’s one less annoying layer protecting the pert buttocks. The chain mail can stay for now; it will make a pretty frame for the soft flesh, in fact. He’ll peel all of it off later when his balls no longer ache so much. The trousers and the steel leg protections will go too, eventually, now he just needs access to Selvan’s hot tightness. He runs his claws over the leather, careful not to nick the skin. It would be a shame if he damaged such a beautiful toy before he has a chance to play with it.

Oh, there it is, his prize. The man tries to prevent him from opening his cheeks and admiring it, but Tarr absentmindedly bats the flailing hands away. Selvan, poor dear, beats at the ground with clenched fists and sobs.

With a finger, claw safely retracted, Tarr pushes in, and out comes a pretty scream. He sighs. Humans are so delicate. Wouldn’t do to make this one unusable before the demonic seed transforms his fragile flesh into something that can endure Tarr’s cock in all of its glory. Still, he pumps his finger in and out for a while, enjoying the broken music and the feel of unlubricated insides clinging to his skin. Then, he gathers a smidgeon of his darkness in a dense cloud around his fingertip; Selvan gasps as it rolls through his guts, vanishing their contents, emptying him like a proper vessel. He wheezes and spasms. Starts chanting denials again. Torsions wreck him, but there’s nothing to vomit with anymore. Finally, the dark blob climbs up his throat and spills into his mouth. Selvan hacks it out and spits — such heady disgust, such delicious terror — and Tarr picks it up and absorbs it back into himself with a pleased sigh.

“Please no please no please no…”

Ah, how Tarr wants. To bury himself to the hilt, to rend the reluctant hole open, to drill his spines into bleeding walls, to feel taut muscles strain and part around his knot while he pours the darkness into its new home. But that won’t do. Humans are too fragile for their own good, and many a youngling go hungry for a century because they were too impatient and inexperienced to take proper precautions, and in their frenzy killed their prey by accident. Tarr’s not a youngling anymore. He knows how to break in a fresh hole.

He lies between the trembling thighs and spears the defensively clenched opening with his tongue. Salivates when he tastes blood. Growls. So fragile. Even one finger was too much. His tongue is more, but it’s slippery and agile. Selvan will enjoy it, despite the pain and the humiliation the act brings. Already, the monotony of the constant chant of “no no noes” is getting interrupted by soft whimpers. Tarr’s chest rumbles as he laughs, and Selvan moans. Yes, take more of it, there’s a lot to take. Tarr’s tongue is malleable; it can extend so far, bend in on itself, wriggle and flex into impossible shapes. Already a part of Selvan can’t stand the steel cage constricting his delicate human cock, and it is growing. Soon, the human will have no choice but to acknowledge its existence. 

Tarr may as well help this awakening. He rips Selvan’s pants enough that he can cup the constricted cock and heavy balls in the palm of his hand, a constant reminder. The skin covering the testicles is taut. They aren’t as full as his — nothing can be as full as a demon’s balls after a century of famine — but it’s apparent that Selvan neglected his body’s needs for far too long a time. Tarr massages them roughly, and Selvan’s insides spasm around his tongue. The demon pierces them with new vigor. 

“No no no, stop, you’ll kill me!”

Oh no, he won’t. Tarr will make sure Selvan lives a long, unfulfilling life, guts swelled to bursting with Tarr’s essence. He’ll live for years, for decades, his body made young and sturdy, longing for his demon’s cock and unsuccessfully trying to substitute it with inferior cocks of humans. His debasement and frustration will feed Tarr’s hunger until the next Alignment. Even separated by worlds, Tarr and Selvan will stay together, always. There will be no escaping Tarr’s darkness. It’ll swirl in Selvan’s gut, flow through his veins, pulse in his groin, defile his mind. It’ll tighten his nipples and tingle in his hole. It’ll make him cry during lonely nights, force him to whore himself to strangers. But no matter how many cocks he takes, how much human seed he tastes, it’ll never be enough.

Tarr makes his tongue vibrate faster than sound, and Selvan screams. His caged cock leaks a hot sticky stream onto Tarr’s palm as the man convulses. The demon rips his tongue out of the twitching opening and laughs.

“Apologies for breaking my promise,” he says. “I haven’t gotten mine yet, but here you are. How was your first taste of ecstasy? How does it feel to grasp so intense a sensation with your hole alone?”

Selvan weeps between heavy breaths. “I ha-ate you!”

Tarr leans over him. “Oh, yes. Yes, you do. You hate me. And you hate your masters who lied to you, and yourself, for believing them. And most of all, you hate your body for betraying you so. Yesss, feel for me.” Tarr thrusts his impossibly long tongue under the backplate at Selvan’s neck, licks along his spine. Then, he grips the man’s beautiful hair and licks into a dainty shell of an ear. “Feel for me,” he whispers. “Gift me with every luscious part of yourself, every savory sensation and flavorful emotion. I’ll. Eat. You. Up.”

Oh, how Tarr loves that helplessness, that shame, churning in the emptied belly, the heat of blood rising to the skin’s surface. He can’t have enough of it.

“My turn now,” he says, and lines up his cock. It’s enormous by human standards but tapers down at the tip, which makes the initial insertion easier. It pries the reluctant flesh open, makes Selvan squirm and gasp prettily. “Oh, you think this is a lot?” Tarr teases, then pushes the hard, flared ridges at the back of his glans past Selvan’s straining sphincter, and it’s like the human suddenly got paralyzed; he’s so afraid to move. No matter, Tarr will move for them both. He keeps pushing, careful not to break his toy too much. When the first few of his sensitive barbs bury into the wet heat, it’s such an enormous relief. 

Finally, after one hundred years.

It’s the opposite of relief for Selvan. He’s crying. The confusing mix of sensations that enters him through his ass overwhelms his will to fight, which pleases Tarr. He likes them feisty, true, but he likes them confused and feeling too much for their feeble minds to handle even more. He flexes his barbs into sensitive walls and rejoices at the variety of sounds his chosen human can emit. Good lungs on this one. Makes a demon excited. He thrusts in a bit more with a growl. Selvan’s hole can handle some roughness. Alas, it won’t have a choice. Tarr has already bottomed out, and he’s not even a third way in. He doesn’t dare to go deeper before his seed works its magic; Selvan’s insides may rupture. He’ll have to make do with a very shallow fuck for his first tonight. Such fucks are quite unsatisfying unless he’s really willing to abuse his prey’s rectum, and oh, by the Elder Gods, he’s willing.

He licks the tears from Selvan’s face. “There, there, precious. Are you a knight or a baby, hmm?”

“H-hurts.”

“Does it now?” Tarr trusts shallowly. “And tell me, where does it hurt?”

“My ass,” Selvan, such a dear, complains brokenly.

“Only your ass? I don’t really believe you. Where else does it hurt?”

Selvan tries to hide his face in a gloved hand, but Tarr doesn’t let him. “Tell me, where else?”

“My cock!” the man sobs.

Tarr laughs and speeds up. His precious human does his best to be quiet, but his failure is beautiful and spectacular, the best kind of music. Tarr reams his hole with a vengeance born from a century of frustration. He swirls his barbs round and round until Selvan can’t take it anymore and pisses himself — an additional layer of humiliation on a dessert already so delicious.

Tarr hovers over the man, pushes the armored shoulders into the rotting leaves of the forest floor; he can’t let more than a small part of his cock ravage this delicate hole less it breaks, but oh, ravage it he does. He’s not the oldest, but he’s fast — his hips can keep an impossible rhythm. Which Selvan appreciates, so much so he’s stopped wailing bloody murder and only grunts now, eyes crossed, brow sweaty, almost out of it yet feeling so much it boils the darkness in Tarr’s balls. 

The human is lucky Tarr is so pent up. It’s been barely minutes, and already he feels the wave rise. His darkness compresses, concentrates into liquid, burns. He falls, balls pulsing, cock pumping a hot stream of viscous cum into the hollow of Selvan’s gut; the armor under his hands dents, and he roars. His essence spreads, fills, stretches. Connects. Selvan isn’t aware of it yet, all focused on the primal sensations of pain and pleasure and getting violated. But the glorious feeling saturates Tarr’s entire self. He comes down from the peak temporarily sated and as happy as demons get.

Selvan is his now.

He can’t help himself, has to admire it properly. He tugs his cock out with a dirty pop. Selvan’s hole stares at him, a wide-open chasm, dark soup boiling at the bottom of the broken vessel. The transformation has begun, and microscopic tendrils are invading Selvan’s cells, licking into his being, joining them both. Tarr loves this part. It’s so sensual, this process of fusing existences, like a marriage of sorts. You can’t be closer to another than this. It’s such an inconceivable blessing, this ability the Elder Gods deigned to bestow on him and his kin, even if he only gets to use it once every century.

“What is happening to me? You damnable beast, what have you done?!”

Tarr’s laugh rumbles up from the depths of his body. “I’ve taken you. Or haven’t you noticed my cock moving in your ass? Fear not, I shall rectify that soon. You _will_ notice this time, I assure you.”

“No!” Selvan trashes under Tarr; he tries his best to expel the demon’s cum, but it is a part of Tarr, and it has a will. It isn’t going anywhere except deeper. “No, you did something! I can feel it. Oh God. Oh God, save me. It’s doing something, no, take it out, stop it, stop it!”

Tarr revels in the human’s distress, gorges himself on it, finally able to siphon Selvan’s emotions directly. They fill his groin and belly with gathering darkness. In a few moments, he’ll be ready to stuff his new vessel to bursting, and properly this time, with his entire cock, every barb on it from tip to knot.

But first, he wants to enjoy Selvan’s body a little more.

He finds all the joints of the armor and does away with them. Selvan renews his struggles, but his desperate wriggling only excites the demon more. The waving hands are annoying, though, so Tarr wraps them in the chain mail after he peels it up and off. He presses Selvan’s arms high above the human’s head and, as he leans over him and kisses his prey deep, he fuses the small metal rings together around Selvan’s palms and wrists. Then he coaxes the oak they’re lying under to lend him a few roots; they thread through the gaps in the metal until his human is properly manacled. After that, tearing the rest of Selvan’s annoying clothes off takes mere moments. 

Tarr sits up and admires the view. “Oh, just look at you.”

Selvan stares back at him with wide eyes, lips gleaming with Tarr’s spit. The only article one could call clothing left on him is the steel cage compressing his cock into the unnatural shape of sinful frustration. His flesh swells out of it at the root, and Tarr presses a finger there, amused. “Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

It’s fascinating how fast human skin can change color.

The demon situates himself between spread thighs; Selvan doesn’t resist this time, just stares. He’s not broken yet, no. Simply resigned. He knows this is happening no matter his wishes, and he dreads and hates it. But the corruption is already setting in, and a part of him is excited. Tarr hums and massages the distended stomach that is growing flatter and flatter as his cum absorbs.

“You’ve defiled me!” Selvan accuses, but it’s only to contradict the warmth tainting his insides and weighing down his balls. 

Tarr leans in and latches his mouth to a pert nipple.

“No, stop, don’t do that. Aaah!”

The demon looks up into his eyes, into his soul. “I’ll do whatever I please to you. You may as well relax and enjoy it.”

“I’m not enjoying any of it!”

Tarr chuckles and gives his full attention to the other nipple. The man’s legs squeeze around him. Tarr caresses the tight balls and rejoices in the tingle Selvan feels there, in the wanton tremble that travels up the fair body, in the stifled moans. He spanks the balls lightly with the tips of his fingers, and now every breath Selvan takes comes out of him with a yelp. At the same time, the human enjoys it far more than even Tarr expected.

“You have such hidden depths inside you,” the demon says before carefully squishing an oversensitive nipple between his teeth until it swells with blood and crosses from dark red to purple. Selvan’s hips spasm. “I regret we have so little time to explore them. Such treasures I could dig out of you, had I a decade or ten.” He switches nipples again.

“Oh God, stop doing that!”

Tarr’s chest rumbles with an inhuman chuckle. “I’ll only stop when you’re ready to beg.”

“I am begging you!”

Tarr massages the root of Selvan’s cock, bulging out of its cage. “You know that’s not the kind of begging I want.”

Selvan’s chest and face flood with shameful heat. He clenches his eyes and fists. Not ready to take that step yet, hmm? Good, very good. The thicker the thread Selvan’s control hangs on is, the louder will be the sound of it snapping.

Tarr so loves pretty sounds.

He retracts his claws just enough not to break the skin and runs them down vulnerable underarms and sides. They leave parallel red lines in their wake, which Tarr finds aesthetically pleasing. The lengthy exhale bordering on a squeal and the hardening of abused nipples is even more so. This confirms that Selvan likes pain mixed with his pleasure, a surprise for them both, even when Tarr doesn’t think it’s a fresh development. What a fitting plaything for a demon. Resilient yet emotional; reluctant but eager; strong yet fragile, and so ready to be broken. So many conflicts so delicious, all wrapped in a beautiful package made of lean muscles and unblemished skin. In an entire millennium, Tarr has nerves met anyone this perfect, neither on the humans’ side of the Gate nor his own. He wishes there was a way to take this one back with him. Instead of other demons — bored Elders or weaklings currying favors — Tarr could share his lair with someone he can connect with on a level beyond physical. 

Although he wouldn’t have minded the physical, especially since the regular supply of his demonic essence would have caused the human’s body to retain its youthful attractiveness for decades, if not centuries. 

Ahh, to have Selvan by his side always, their minds and emotions directly connected instead of separated by the vast coldness of the Universe, the man’s hole at hand for whenever Tarr wants to bury his cock into something tight and warm. One could only dream…

Tarr lifts his head, pulling his tongue out from Selvan’s spasming throat. The man sucks in a breath and stares into what he can see of Tarr’s eyes — which is decidedly more than mere minutes ago, before the demon’s cum entered his system.

“What is happening to me?” he chokes out.

“You’re becoming mine. Now, we shall continue, so the transformation thoroughly sticks.”

“No!”

Tarr strokes Selvan’s neck and chest. “Would you rather,” the demon says in a dangerously low voice, “become someone else’s, then? You still could. Take another’s cock, one older than me, with more potent seed. That Elder you fought earlier, perhaps?”

“N-no.”

Tarr strokes. “You’d rather belong to me, then.”

“I’d rather belong to no one!”

“I’m afraid that’s a choice you no longer have. You’re already mine. I’m just going to make sure someone else doesn’t claim you when I leave here. You are such a pretty prize, after all.”

“So.” Selvan is breathing fast. “You t-take me, and the rest of you leaves me alone?”

“Well, that’s not guaranteed. True, most won’t waste time with one already claimed. But you are attractive, so young and strong, and rich in flavor; you may have to enjoy another’s cock or a set of thick tentacles before the night is through. Only that they won’t be able to connect to you the way I do; they won’t feel you inside your soul, and you won’t feel them.”

“So it is you! You’re making me feel those filthy things!”

“Oh, you’re so precious.” Tarr lowers his mouth to Selvan’s neck and sucks a quick but enthusiastic mark there. “I’m doing things to you, but what you’re feeling because of it is yours alone. I’m just there with you, inside you, when you’re experiencing it, so I can eat what your body and mind generate. It tastes so good.” 

Tarr isn’t exactly lying. His essence changes the way humans experience sensations, but the emotions that follow aren’t artificial — if demons could create real, living emotions, they wouldn’t need to feed on the humans in the first place.

“No, no, it’s not me. This can’t be me. I’m pure!”

Tarr aims and fills Selvan’s ass in one powerful thrust, then goes deeper. “No longer.”

Selvan is trembling. Too overwhelmed to talk, he begs Tarr to stop with wet, desperate eyes. Tarr doesn’t. Instead, he opens him with short pumps of his hips, gradually impaling the man on his enormous cock. He’s barely past the half-mark, and already there’s a bump on the side of Selvan’s belly that pulses in the rhythm of Tarr’s thrusts. He strokes it, and Selvan follows his fingers with terrified eyes. 

“That’s not possible…”

Tarr smirks, shoves a few more inches in, then moves his cock in circles, flexes it from side to side. Selvan feels his guts rearrange themselves around it and shivers. Only his knight training allows him to contain a wave of sudden panic.

“H-how… how are you doing this?! Stop-aaah!”

Tarr isn’t in the mood to explain that if he wills it, his cock shares some properties of his tongue. 

It’s going to come in handy when he knots.

Selvan is crying, but it’s silent, and since the man’s throat is not releasing any interesting sounds, Tarr shall use it for other purposes. He pries open the soft lips with the tip of his tongue and does some exploring. He especially enjoys pushing really deep down Selvan’s esophagus — in no small part because it tightens the already tight hole around him, stimulating his sensitive barbs with velvety heat — but he pulls out often. Selvan isn’t yet changed enough to hold his breath for long minutes; maybe on their third fuck Tarr will finally stuff his human from both sides. Now he has to content himself with feisty teeth, lively little tongue, and delightful gagging noises. The realization Selvan has never kissed anyone before is a savory spice that warms the darkest corners of his soul. Saliva is overflowing from Tarr’s mouth into Selvan’s, who drinks and drinks it until it transforms from disgust to arousal to shame inside him. The power in Tarr’s saliva isn’t as strong as that of his cum, but it’s there, and it heats Selvan’s mouth and chest, fills his stomach; it makes his hips twitch, forcing Tarr’s impossible cock deeper. 

Tarr is getting impatient, but he still enjoys this process of wrenching a new body open. It’s unbelievable how many emotions one human can fit in a minuscule space between seconds, how far beyond the line of “I can’t take it anymore” one can be pushed, surely Tarr’s cock ends somewhere, surely Selvan’s flesh will break — and then it’ll hurt _properly_ , and he’ll bleed to death out of a ragged wound between his legs.

Surely there’s mercy in this world.

Tarr sucks on Selvan’s tongue one last time before whispering in his ear, “but there’s no mercy in mine.”

Then he fucks all the way in.

Selvan screams.

Yes. Yes! Such a feast, so worth the century-long wait. And the music! Tarr wants to fuck his tongue into Selvan’s sweet throat in the same rhythm he’s fucking him from below, but is loath to silence it. Instead, he grabs the man’s buttocks — they fit nicely in his palms — and pulls Selvan onto himself like an ill-fitted sleeve. The bulge of his knot nestles in the man’s rectum, taking all the space there. Tarr rips it out. Shoves it in again. It’s unripe yet; when Tarr cums it’ll triple in size. His human’s body still needs to alter more, to take it without first requiring some enthusiastic workout. And there’s another plus to such rough fucking — it makes Tarr’s knot press on every single darkness-sensitized nerve in Selvan’s ass.

“Please.”

“Finally feeling like begging, aren’t we?”

“Oh God. Oh God. No. Do something!”

Tarr laughs. “Aren’t I doing a lot?”

“I can’t! I can’t! Please!”

“Please what?”

Oh, Tarr knows what.

An indignant glare.

So he can glare still. Tarr speeds up. Selvan remains stubbornly inarticulate, no matter how much his trapped cock aches. Tarr likes that. The frustration awoken suddenly after years of celibacy is so powerful and rich in flavor that just this fuck alone is going to quell Tarr’s hunger for many years. He doesn’t mind eating more of it, oh, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, it’ll serve him well to prolong this.

He straitens Selvan’s legs and puts them on his shoulders; the bones coming closer together squish the abused flesh against his cock, which is nice. Selvan doesn’t seem to think so, which is also nice, in a way; it adds flavor. Now that Tarr’s hands are free, he can focus more of his attention on keeping Selvan on the very edge — both physically and emotionally.

He fucks in and catches the rising wave of Selvan’s belly in his hand. The man looks down in shock. Tarr barb by barb wrenches himself out, and the wave recedes. He fucks in again. The muscular stomach distends, and they both can see a distinct shape. Out. In.

Up. Down.

The visual cue ramps up Selvan’s awareness. The rhythmic emptying and filling of his gut is no longer an abstract dream of a mind mad with fever. This is happening to him. The night is suspiciously bright, its air pleasantly cool in contact with his overheated skin. It smells of mist and freshly fallen leaves decaying on the forest’s floor. He’s bound and naked, and he’s getting fucked by a demon. It hurts so much, but his bruised nipples strain up eagerly — like they want to entice Tarr’s cruel mouth and fingers, and his treacherous cock leaks. 

Oh, it hurts, it does. But there’s so much more than pain. Tarr’s cock is enormous, and it is lively. It touches Selvan in places he never knew existed, in places beyond the physical. It’s huge and hot, and there are those things that squirm around it, tease and prickle, ache and itch, scrap and burn; those things which felt so awful and so wonderful their first time he wet himself like a little boy.

The low rumble of Tarr’s laugh travels down the demon’s cock and into Selvan’s body. His ass feels like it could break open at any moment, but with every thrust there’s still more to take. He moans. Tarr is pleased. Selvan feels so terrible, and he feels so good. So much. The demon’s pleasure pools in Selvan’s belly, in small spaces not occupied by Tarr’s cock. Selvan is his; he never realized one could belong to someone to such a degree. Since he joined the Order, he scorned men and women who let their holes be defiled, first by a demon, then by an unending procession of nameless lovers. Now he understands. He’ll never be the same again, reshaped and remade, chasing these sensations, this hateful connection, till the end of his days.

“But you’ll never catch it again,” Tarr says; Tarr is listening. “This night is all you’ll ever have of me, so make sure to enjoy it to the fullest. We’ll stay connected forever, me in you, but you in me will only be this once. It’ll be agony, my essence permeating every single cell in your body but separated by worlds and unable to resonate. So enjoy this, enjoy the inimitable pain and pleasure of truly living, because you’ll only feel it tonight.”

The demon fucks him, and those barbs feel amazing — like living, like dying — and Selvan feels them through his insides — they’re so distinct, Tarr feels every single one — the cock thrusts hard, and he cramps — Selvan cramps, and he thrusts his cock. They both want that piece of annoying steel off him — it’s so terribly — so deliciously — frustrating — and they want it to stay on. Selvan is afraid to scream — what if Tarr’s voice will come out? He wants to cum — not yet — can’t, he needs to! — he needs!

He cums — yet he doesn’t. The enormous cock pulses — the one-of-a-kind sensation of his knot growing ensconced inside a bonded human — what the hell is happening — his ass feels so good — his knot hurts so bad — it’s unbearable. He fills as he empties; his balls throb and shrink while his belly swells and throbs; his cock is so small and constricted, and never had it been this thick.

They scream.

Tarr slumps over Selvan, barely catching himself before crushing his still much too fragile human. Selvan looks up at him. They’re both breathing hard, and they’re connected. It’ll be half an hour at the least before the demon’s knot goes down enough he can pull out — and he’ll never pull out of Selvan’s soul. 

In a sense, they’ll stay together forever, but they have so little time to sate their bodies. The demon hasn’t felt this frenzied since his first Alignment, possibly never. He already wants to fuck Selvan again. The man’s taut muscles try to spasm around him at the idea. 

They look at each other, terrified. Amazed. Tarr doesn’t remember ever joining this deep with anyone. And to Selvan, every touch is still new, though he’s doing great for a swimmer who kept refusing every glass of water only to be thrown into the sea during a storm. 

By the Elder Gods, Tarr wants to keep him. 

The thought that he could be the demon’s plaything for the rest of eternity doesn’t frighten Selvan as much as it should. There’s a longing in him which warms his overstuffed guts, and he isn’t sure who it belongs to. He squirms on Tarr’s knot, and Tarr smirks at him, pleased. He licks inside the man’s lips with the very tip of his tongue, and Selvan opens up and — for the first time — chases it with his own. Something breaks in them both, and they share their first real kiss. 

Selvan isn’t yet free of his social conditioning — it’s doubtful he’ll ever be — and he’s so ashamed. With his belly pregnant with demon cum and ass painfully forced open on demon cock, he’s kissing said demon like they are potential lovers on their first date.

Tarr’s greedy mouth licks that shame from inside him, sucks it out of his soul, leaving throbbing emptiness in its wake that immediately fills up again. The same thing is happening in the tangible, only in reverse — the human’s body is drinking Tarr’s cum, absorbing it, and whenever the man’s stomach shrinks a bit, Tarr’s cock takes offense, wriggles, squirms, and spews more of it. 

Selvan looks pregnant, just as he should, and the association excites the darkness in Tarr. It’s difficult for demons to procreate, and Tarr doesn’t know of anyone who’s done it with a partner not of their kind. But the very idea of fucking a young into Selvan; of helping it grow with regular servings of his demonic essence; of Selvan cursing and suffering as he delivers it — oh, to find out how many flavors of desperation, terror, and hatred this human can experience... And then, finally, after such ordeal, to fuck Selvan’s broken body back into shape, healthy and full of Tarr’s darkness again. Ah, such a dream.

Selvan breaks the kiss, but instead of screaming at that terrible vision, he pants into Tarr’s mouth, “free me.”

Tarr laughs at him, but it’s the opposite of mocking. Because Selvan’s words don’t mean “let me go”.

He cups Selvan’s trapped groin and pushes decay into the metal. It reddens and rusts, then crumbles off the man’s soft cock. Selvan moans as it rapidly swells with blood and gets erect for the first time since he became an adult. He looks down, but he can’t see it over the round bump of his belly, and he glares at Tarr, indignant. The demon only laughs, then spears his throat with a meaty tongue a moment before Selvan overcomes his horrified embarrassment and begs Tarr to make him cum. He’ll have to work harder than that. Tarr’s been amicable thus far, but he’s still a demon, his agenda always comes first, and he likes to make others suffer a lot more than he likes to give them things, especially for free. If his lovely human wants to orgasm, he must pursue it himself, no matter how humiliated it makes him feel. 

Tarr really likes shame. As far as emotions go, it’s the most savory. 

Selvan would’ve glared at Tarr again if his face wasn’t full of demon tongue. Tarr is glad how much more resilient his human is after getting a second cum injection. Now he can fuck Selvan’s throat without coming up for air every other minute, easing a little the tension gathered behind his immobilized knot. Around him, Selvan heats and spasms like an eager pussy, his body’s sensitivity impossibly amped up. In fact, even now, new nerves are growing in places which before tonight could barely feel anything. Most new growth is happening in the fuckhole between his legs — since it got destroyed and remade more than once. As far as pussies go, Selvan’s new one is truly splendid; the range of sensations it can now register beats even that of the glans of his cock. Every overstretched strand of muscle, every vein on Tarr’s knot, each minuscule twitch of the barbs screwing into his walls, all of it gets imprinted directly onto Selvan’s brain. He could’ve counted those barbs were he not so preoccupied with the insistent need throbbing in his balls. In a way, it’s worse than when he had the cage on. He’s bound, nothing is touching his cock, and Tarr — beside skewering him on both sides — isn’t moving. He can’t beg with his mouth, but he lets out a constant stream of pleas into their minds, and Tarr is listening, and he’s happily doing nothing, except letting Selvan cry in helpless frustration. 

Selvan’s hole is so full of pain and pleasure, but it’s all much too static. He can’t take it; he has to do something, anything!

His hips jerk, and sensations explode inside. Tarr growls. Selvan moves again, deliberately this time, and it’s so terrible both his eyes and cock leak. Tarr’s knot is huge, and it presses everywhere. But there’s a spot that sends a raw roar up Selvan’s nerves and, if he only moves right, it overpowers even the warm ache of his swollen belly. “Prostate,” Tarr gifts him with a word that’s going to mean so much to him in the coming years. The demon lets Selvan wrap his legs around Tarr’s uncomfortably broad hips. The man’s feet find purchase on the backs of powerful thighs, and he starts to fuck himself shallowly. He can’t move all that much — there’s still a limit to how wide his sphincter can stretch — and he badly needs to put a hand on the cock he hasn’t directly touched in years, but the bursts of pleasure behind his balls make up for it in spades. Tarr is still stubbornly refusing to move, but his cock betrays him and rolls through Selvan’s guts in aching waves that make the man blush. The heady feeling of having another being so deep _inside_ him reminds him that this act isn’t voluntary — and that he no longer cares.

Selvan’s cock pulses and leaks. That wonderful throb running through him from ass to throat would’ve eventually made him cum, but instead it’s Tarr’s elation that pushes him over. The physical is beyond intense, but Tarr is more than just that. He invades Selvan’s entire body, and the man’s untouched cock is still Tarr’s, and Selvan’s cum, which paints the underside of his protruding belly in quick spurts, has darkness in it. 

Selvan shakes as he comes down from the peak. Tarr mercifully pulls his tongue out and lets him breathe. Selvan squeezes his eyes shut. The shudders that wreck him don’t spare his hips — it’s like he vibrates around Tarr’s knot, and he’s so oversensitive. Tarr revels in it.

“Hate you.”

“You’ve told me that before.” Tarr sits up more comfortably so he can play with Selvan’s bruised nipples again. The human tries to follow his movement because it pulls on the knot. Tarr deliberately moves further away.

“Fuck.”

“Oh my. Profanity? Aren’t you a holy man?”

“Shut u-ouch! Stop that!”

“Weren’t you just telling me how pure you are?”

“I’m dirty now, you’ve defiled meeeah! Leave those alone!”

“Hmm, at this point, I think we both know I’ll do to you whatever I please. But do resist. It amuses me.”

Selvan squirms closer to Tarr again — to ease the sore pressure in his ass. The demon moves away.

“Oh God, please, stop moving. And leave my nipples alone, they hurt!”

Tarr prickles each one with a claw and lets two drops of blood gather. “Do they now.” He bends down and sucks.

They both know that while Selvan isn’t lying, he also isn’t telling the entire truth.

The man’s shame tastes even batter spiced with blood. 

Selvan tries to pull his tit away from Tarr’s greedy mouth but can’t, now that he’s stretched taut between his restrained hands and Tarr’s knot. He whines as the demon sucks. 

By the time he’s done, Selvan’s nipples are big and puffy. Selvan dreads looking at them — Tarr thinks he resembles a nursing mother.

Satisfied, the demon sits up. His partially deflated knot pops out of Selvan, and the man screams as the rest of Tarr’s cock spills out of him. Despite his pregnant-looking belly, he feels so unbearably hollow.

“In me, in me, get it back in me,” he chants. It’s such a different song compared to all the denials of before, and Tarr loves it.

“Oh, I’m going to.”

But first, there’s one more thing on tonight’s agenda, one place Tarr hasn’t tasted yet. 

He crawls between Selvan’s legs and swallows him, hums in appreciation of the sounds Selvan makes. The man’s cock is hard — has been hard all this time and will never soften again unless Tarr wills it — and deliciously oversensitive. So many years of neglect dulled the nerves, but Tarr’s essence boiling in the man’s guts more than compensated for it. If Tarr had time, he would’ve teased this lovely piece of flesh for hours, days even, with darkness woven into thin tendrils, both the outside and the inside of it, until Selvan lost his voice. And then, he would’ve kept going, made Selvan flinch whenever Tarr blew air on the poor red thing. And after all that, he’ll fuck his human’s half-conscious body, knot, and pump him full of cum. They’ll sleep connected.

Selvan hates the disgusting fantasy. He hates it so much his cock pulses and spills all that disgust and hate into the back of Tarr’s throat. The demon swallows and sucks, sucks, sucks. Selvan is crying for him to stop, hips twitching, hole hot and empty and wrecked with uncontrollable spasms. Tarr drags him right into the impossible — Selvan orgasms again. His balls haven’t yet had time to replenish his cum, so Tarr tastes nothing but few pathetic drops. With enough training, they could be forced to produce cum faster. Alas, there’s only tonight.

Selvan is still shaking with aftershocks when Tarr rolls him over, at the same time destroying the tangled chain mail binding the man’s hands. Selvan is free, but he wouldn’t have struggled even if he had the strength. He eagerly helps the demon thug him back to his knees, and his open hole greets Tarr’s cock with relief. The demon lets go of his control, knowing that Selvan can finally take it. He pistons in and out at inhuman speed; he yanks almost his entire cock out of the slippery warmth of his fuckhole, then slams back in. 

Tarr’s body is vibrating, and Selvan has to keep his mouth open for his teeth not to rattle. The man isn’t crying anymore — his eyes can’t produce new tears fast enough. He maneuvers around his massive belly, brushes his cock, and cums. He wraps his hand around it, and it’s too much, but he can’t force himself to let go. It’s been returned to him after so many years; it’s his again. He strokes it frantically and doesn’t know anymore if he’s overstimulated or even if he’s cumming or not. All of him — from knees to smarting tits that rub against moss and dry leaves — all of him is a furnace powered by a demonic piston. They’re two cogs in a machine, working in tandem to produce heat. They’re burning up, burning down, fusing together into a single entity. The world doesn’t matter anymore because they’ve created a universe of two.

Tarr explodes in him, and Selvan explodes with him, in him, within himself. Selvan is feeling so much that, for the first time in his existence, even such a voracious eater like Tarr’s can’t take it all. He opens his dark soul wider than it’s meant to be opened just so he can devour Selvan’s precious gift. His soul boils in him, spills through his cock, and inside Selvan, pierces through the human, takes root. Selvan is moaning an incoherent string of unimportant words into the ground; maybe they’re pleas, maybe denials, but probably they mean nothing at all. 

Tarr slumps over the human’s ass, his knot safely embedded in it. He’s numb all over. He pants while his head slowly clears, and he realizes what he has just done.

He mated.

With a human.

“Fuck.”

Selvan whines at him in answer, still out of it. Tarr pulls him into his arms, and sits them both under the oak, leans his back against it. The man in his lap is a pliant rag-doll, and Tarr molds him to himself. 

His. Selvan is his. 

Tarr is going to face hell from his kin for doing the taboo — that is, if he lives long enough to enjoy it separated from the other part of his soul by the entire Universe. They’re both so utterly fucked, he and his precious human. He can’t stay in this world — there’s not enough darkness here to sustain those like him for longer than one day, and once he dies, Selvan will die with him. But he also can’t take Selvan to the other side — the trip through the gate will kill him, thus killing Tarr.

In response to his distress, Selvan squirms on his knot. Tarr takes his cute human cock in hand to quell him and easily distracts the man with its oversensitivity. Tarr himself can’t afford such distractions. He needs to find a way for them both to live.

Is there really no way for Selvan to cross the gate safely? There has to be something. Long ago, he heard rumors. Fairytales of Elders keeping human pets, pretty fucktoys to play with at their leisure. He thought those stories were made up, but what if there is something to them? He isn’t his fellow demons’ keeper, and he isn’t yet an Elder. There are bound to be secrets he’s not privy to.

Who features in those rumors the most? Simurd, a hulking green mass of a thing — whom Tarr doesn’t like much. Who else? Garud The White, spindly and hard-skinned; he sometimes likes to have Tarr’s ass warming his rigid, ice-cold cock. Tarr doesn’t mind that one, given the amount of cock-warming he’s done over the years. Yes, he shall go to Garud.

Decision made, he adjusts Selvan’s body, pushes his knot deeper in, and flexes all of his barbs at once, which makes the man moan and whimper. Then, comfortably snuggled both inside and around his mate, Tarr pulls Selvan’s consciousness with him into sleep.

*******

“If there is indeed a way,” says Garud, pulling out of some twitching human with a satisfied grunt, “what are you going to give me for showing it to you?”

“What do you want?” Tarr asks.

“Your mate’s ass,” Garud answers with his usual arrogance.

Tarr barely stops himself from going for the Elder’s throat. 

Huh, that will take some getting used to.

“You can have it,” he hisses and hugs Selvan closer when the human is about to protest.

Tarr has known all along he’ll be expected to share. Selvan will stay his no matter what, and the human’s humiliation and reluctance while taking a parade of demon cocks will keep Tarr’s stomach nice and full, but it seems that allowing it to happen will be difficult at first. 

Coming to Garud was a good decision. Arrogant or not, at least Tarr likes him enough not to attack him out of an idiotic impulse.

He repositions Selvan in his arms, makes him wrap his legs around Tarr’s waist. Then, he grabs the man’s buttocks and spreads them wide in invitation. Garud slots in and immediately starts fucking, and Selvan is beside himself. Garud’s cock is much smaller than Tarr’s, but it resembles a frozen piece of stone. Selvan shivers from the cold of it, and he sinks his little human teeth into his mate’s shoulder to stop them from chattering.

“I don’t think you understand me,” Garud says between one forceful thrust and the next. “I want his ass _on a regular basis_.”

Tarr grits his teeth. “Define _regular basis_.” Selvan is screaming denials in their connected minds. “I’m not letting you use him every day.”

“Every week then.”

“Once a month.”

“Twice.”

“Once a fucking month. Plus, whenever you can force yourself to ask nicely.”

Garud snorts amusement through his long, thin nose. He’s not one of those that laugh; that’s one of the things Tarr finds charming about him.

“Deal,” the spindly demon says and continues working on freezing his mate’s ass inside out.

The fuck is agonizing, and Selvan hates it. Nevertheless, he sticks his hips out as he should. Tarr starts murmuring encouragements, and Garud gasps when Selvan clenches around him. The thin demon redoubles his efforts and soon shoots a torrent of freezing sludge up the man’s aching hole. He pulls out, and, for a moment, Tarr has the urge to let his seed spill out. But that would be rude. 

Also, his mate didn’t cum on another’s cock, which deserves a reward.

Mentally, he orders Selvan to clench his sphincter. The human does as he’s told but is quite miffed. That’s no reward! It is, for Tarr. They’ll talk about getting one tailored specifically for Selvan when he takes five different demon cocks in a row without cumming. At that thought, Selvan’s indignation transforms into a mix of shame, horror, and excitement, so all is as it should be.

“Now, tell me how it’s done,” Tarr demands.

Garud gestures for him to follow. Soon, they come across another Elder, one made of slime.

“Humans can’t pass through the Gate and live, true,” Garud says. “But demons can.”

“As simple as that,” Tarr eyes the slime Elder with wonder. Why didn’t he think of this? 

He bows respectfully — he doesn’t have any relationship with this Elder, who introduces himself as Meom, but that is about to change. After all, putting his mate inside another demon’s body should make them at least acquittances.

They negotiate, and Meom gets fucking rights, although not as frequent as Garud’s. He only wants Selvan once a year, but he wants all of him, all his holes, and all the spaces inside him, for an entire day from sunset to sunset. 

Selvan is about to find out what that’s going to be like. He screams at Tarr in horror while his demon pushes him into the slime, ass-first. Tarr feels it fill him. It’s still annoying to watch his human opened wider and pumped fuller than even he managed, but he has his jealousy firmly under control. This is necessary. And, jealousy aside, it is also quite delicious, all this distress and shock. Tarr regrets he won’t be the first to open and fill Selvan’s cock, but the mix of conflicting emotions his mate experiences when gelatinous liquid distends his urethra and inflates his bladder is still very enjoyable. 

Tarr kisses his human deep before pushing the man’s head into the Elder. The slime demon immediately fills the places Tarr’s tongue occupied, then spills deeper. Selvan panics and trashes when it doesn’t spare his nose, airways, and ears, but Tarr diverts his attention by inflaming the darkness embedded in his cells all at once. Selvan cums instantaneously.

“You’ve found yourself a good one,” Meom says while putting pressure on the quivering body inside his. “May I play with him for a few hours after we go through?”

Tarr still has trouble quelling a part of him that is reluctant to share. “He’s not yet changed enough to not need air. He’ll be fine for the several minutes required to cross the Gate, but staying inside you longer may kill him.”

Meom’s body ripples, which is the slime demons’ equivalent of a laugh. “Do not worry,” he says. “No harm will come to your mate while he is inside me. I can deliver air directly to every single cell in his lungs.”

This information is new to Tarr. Up to this point, he considered slime demons boring and didn’t hang around them all that much. 

Just one more thing that is probably going to change.

“In that case, you can have him,” he finally says and bows.

Selvan would’ve been horrified if only he had a single thread of attention to spare. He’s experiencing a beautiful mixture of agony and ecstasy, and Tarr is quickly warming up to the idea of making friends with Meom. Someone who can make his mate feel so much at once should be welcome in their lair.

“A good idea, that,” says Garud, reminding Tarr he’s still there. “Come now, let’s leave Meom to his pleasures.”

“But—”

“Tarr, my friend. Besides acquiring your mate, have you feasted at all? He is lovely, I’ll admit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have regular sustenance. Come, the night is still young. Meom will take good care of him while we enjoy ourselves, and later when you’re being initiated as an Elder.”

“Wait, are you saying…?”

“Yes. High time, too. I’m of the opinion your status should’ve been raised two Alignments ago, but others said we have to wait for you to find yourself a human on your own.”

Wait, what?

“Having a human mate is a requirement to become an Elder?”

Garud does his snort-laugh thing. “Well, how else are you to maintain the necessary level of power if not by having a stable food supply?”

“Meaning, you do have a mate too.”

“As every other Elder. When we go back, I’ll even let you use him while yours watches. Mine is already millennia old, but that trick never fails to make him angry. Your human’s jealousy should prove even more delicious since you just mated. Now, come. Let us celebrate your new status with a feast.”

And celebrate they do.


End file.
